Caged
by Fairady
Summary: The prison is abandoned, but it's past still haunts it. Rick x Daryl


Disclaimer: I own not and make no money off of this.

Warnings: Slash.

Notes: Requested Rick and Daryl.

Caged  
by Fairady

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The prison closes up around Daryl. Blandly gray and hulking, all ordered cells and straight lines of steel. It's a cage. A safe cage but a cage all the same. One he knows by sight all too well from the few times he's visited and the one time he waited out in the parking lot as Merle was released.

It's a cage he'd almost gotten to know from the inside one terrifying time when he was stupidly young and the girl he was with was afraid to tell the truth to her parents crying rape to all who would hear her. Thank fuck the Sheriff was a no nonsense type who could smell bullshit from a mile away, and had a hard stare that broke her lies down.

The threat of being sent away to prison had never deterred Merle, but it'd been enough to scare Daryl nearly stupid. It's a reaction that stayed with him growing up. Cutting his visits short and making him gun the truck out of the parking lot before Merle'd even shut the door. And it's still with him now, even as he knows that the bars and fences are all that's keeping them safe from the Walkers.

Daryl hunches his shoulders and tells himself to get over it during the day. Making rounds around the fence to look for any places that need fixing. Taking his turn in the tower to watch for any threats, human or geek. There's enough food that he doesn't need to worry about hunting just yet, won't for a few months, but that only makes it worse. It doesn't give him the chance to get out and away.

It makes his temper flare and he lashes out at the others without meaning to. Over stupid stuff mostly. It gives him space though, they give him his space now when he paces through the hulking building. Not asking any more stupid questions or trying to drag him into their petty soap operas. Leaving him alone and isolated, just how he liked things.

Daryl passes the days almost easily. Ignoring the way he feels trapped. Night time is a different story.

He sleeps in a cell well away from the block the others had gravitated to, and he keeps the door open. A hundred pound weight wedged in between the bars to make sure it'd never close on him. He's got three mattresses piled up on the bottom bunk but it does nothing to stop his tossing. He can still feel that he's sleeping on a metal slab. The bars throw odd shadows that mess with his mind. Making him think the door's been shut on him just as he's drifting off. Jerking him awake and making him get off the bed to see it isn't, to make sure the weight is still there and he isn't trapped.

Those first few weeks he'd gotten only a few hours of sleep a night, and it had showed. Badly enough that the others had started talking behind his back. They'd made him offers then. Trying to take his shift or giving him useless advise. Daryl hadn't given them the chance to make a second round of offerings. He'd cut them all off quickly and harshly. No one had made the mistake of asking twice.

No one except for Rick.

Daryl can see it, now that his mind isn't so hazed over with exhaustion. How Rick had sat back and watched. Waited for another week to go by before approaching him. Rick's a lot like that hard eyed Sheriff. Quiet and unassuming but quick to cut to the core of the matter, and not willing to put up with any bullshit.

He'd waited for Daryl to go to his cell one night. Gave him a few hours to toss and turn, to almost fall asleep before jerking awake with a start. Waited for Daryl to get just desperate enough not to turn him away. To accept what he offered and finally, _finally_, got some damn sleep.

Daryl waits now at night. Sitting on the edge of the bunk and staring at the way the moon throws shadows across the cell. Trying not to let the shadowed bars get to him as he hears Rick's boots scuff down the prison walk. Rick himself shows up seconds later. As haggard and worn looking as Daryl feels most days.

They don't talk. Not since the first night. Daryl might haul off and punch the other man for that sort of transgression and Rick seems to know it.

Rick's shirt comes off and he kicks his boots into the corner where Daryl had set his earlier. Daryl reaches out first. Grabbing Rick's arm and hauling him down into the bunk that isn't wide enough for two full men. Their lips meet in a clash of hungry teeth and soothing tongue as Daryl lets himself be rolled onto his back. One of Rick's arms pillowed behind his head and the other making fast tracks towards their pants.

Daryl fists both of his hands in Rick's hair and lets the man deal with the buttons and zippers. He just shuts his eyes and lets himself sink into the kiss. Feeling the burn of stubble on his face as he chases Rick's tongue into the other man's mouth. Breaking away only for the few seconds it takes him to shift his hips up as Rick tugs his jeans down. Just far enough to reach in and pull Daryl's full cock out into the cool air.

He moans at the sure touch and drags Rick back down to another kiss. Muffling the noise that would echo in the nearly empty prison. It's no secret in the group where Rick spends his nights anymore, but there's no reason to advertise it so loudly.

Daryl thrusts up into the air as Rick lets him go, feeling the cool air just that bit more keenly. But Rick's not gone far, his hand is fumbling and his kiss becomes harder as he groans. His cock bumps up against Daryl's and they're both rutting blindly. Pressed tightly together from their lips down.

He tugs on the hair in his grasp and roughly whispers, "Now." It's been a long day and Daryl doesn't have the patience for the long foreplay Rick seems to favor.

Rick does as he's asked without complaint. One calloused and rough hand pushing between them, taking them both in hand and pumping. Dry and slightly uncomfortable until Daryl shifts enough to not get scrapped by Rick's ragged fingernails. And then it just doesn't matter. Daryl thrusts into the grip and bites back a deep groan, moving against the body above him. Loving the way it feels and knowing the slight chaffing he's going to have in the morning.

And then it's over as soon as it began. Daryl comes with a curse that echoes and Rick buries his own quiet sigh in the side of Daryl's neck. Come soaks the small space between them, pooling on Daryl's stomach.

It never takes much time with them. Rick wipes them both off, tossing the rag to the side when he's done. Daryl rolls slightly to the left and Rick easily slides between him and the wall. Trapping his arm under him as he settles down to sleep.

Daryl closes his eyes and feels sleep immediately steal up to him. The bars cast their shadows across his face, but the heavy weight pinning his right arm down centers him. Draws him past the reflexive panic and into sleep.

It's not a perfect fix, but it helps.

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End file.
